The White

By Aarron Mondello

26/11/2017

The fog rolls over
And covers the town
Filtering light
And changing sounds

I leave my home
And walk in the White
In peaceful solitude
Feeling alone this night

The air feels heavy
Almost like I can touch it
Moisture forms on my clothes
In sparkling droplets

The eeriness flares up
My imagination
Voices and sounds
In strange amplifications

All my senses perverted
My vision subverted
My mind instantly rejects
Anything that’s expected

Footsteps behind me?
Or the echo of my own?
Someone whispering secrets?
Or am I alone?

The White is alive
Altering sound
Bringing shadows brooding
Looming all around

My heart is beating
Speeding, palpitating
The thrill of not knowing
Is intoxicating

Where moments before
The White was relaxing
Now fear and thoughts
Are combining, reacting

A turn, an unknown
Just another in The White
Of a multitude that
Bolster your fright

There, a comfort!
A gnarly old tree
Around whose trunk
Dance a child’s memories

Then a wave
Upon a shore
Washes the White’s fear
Away once more

Shoulders rolling
Cool breeze blowing
The White is calming
My heart is slowing

The fog thins
Slowly dissipating
And I walk home
In a world just waking

©Aarron Mondello


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